


Little House in Fitton

by Starlithorizon



Series: Alchemy and Guitar Ties [6]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Seriously very fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-25 22:42:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlithorizon/pseuds/Starlithorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin and Arthur both discover something good, enabling and prompting them to move in together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Incidental Brilliance

**Author's Note:**

> I have told you that absolutely nothing of mine is beta'd or Brit-picked, right? Cause it's not.  
> That said, I don't know how banking works in England. I barely understand it here in America. I still have no idea who let me be a grown-up.

Since he'd first moved out of his parents' house so long ago, Martin had developed something that was half habit, half ritual. Though he added as much as he could ever mange to the account, he only ever checked his savings once a year. He hadn't spent a penny since opening it, instead relying heavily upon tips and Icarus Removals and whatever he scrounged up.

Arthur, growing up with Carolyn, was much the same. Every time he got any money at all, he set most of it aside, just in case. He'd done it for years, and it served him fairly well.

One evening, while he and Arthur were sitting on s bed in the attic, Martin bit his lip and looked up his bank account online. Everything was as he expected, until he saw the number in his savings. It was gratifying, beautiful, _freeing_.

He'd saved every penny like a miser, in the hopes of moving out of his awful flat. His account was telling him that, yes, it was possible. It was shining and bright and within his reach.

Arthur shifted beside him, reminding him of something else comfortingly in his reach. With a smile, he took Arthur's hand, shifting his thumb over his knuckles.

"What're you smiley about?" Arthur asked sweetly, swooping in and kissing the back of Martin's hand, grin on his own lips.

"My bank account," Martin said, slightly in awe. Here was all this goodness, in the shape of the lovely steward and delicate curves of the numbers on the screen. Everything was flooded with promise. "I— I think I can leave this house, find a place of my own."

"Wow, Skip, that's great!" Arthur cheered. He instantly adopted a nostalgic look, which made Martin's eyes crinkle with the force of his grin. "It's a bit small, and draughty, and cold, but I'll miss your attic."

Martin pressed a kiss to Arthur's lips with an enthusiasm he rarely tapped into.

"You're free to miss this place, but I rather think it's about time we create new memories," he murmured against Arthur. He smiled fondly and tilted his head forward, nose touching the crook between Arthur's neck and shoulder. "When I find a place, would you move in with me?"

Arthur nearly flung Martin off the bed in his enthusiasm as he whooped and chanted yes like a mantra and was generally exuberant as only he could be.

"Of course, Skip, and maybe, of we're lucky, we can find a little house to live in, and I can help you with your removals business, and it'll be perfect!"

Before Martin could protest about the little house, Arthur had loaded his on banking information on his phone and was showing the hefty number to Martin.

"Arthur, how on earth do you have so much money?" Martin gasped, uncaring of the faux pas. This was Arthur.

"See, Mum and Dad set up an account when I was a baby and added to it for years. Then I started adding to it, even when Mum couldn't and Dad didn't. It's like the last vestiges of when I was posh, and if we pool our money together, I'm sure we can find something _brilliant_."

If it had been anyone else in the world, Martin would have protested. He would have been terrified that saying yes would lead to resentment down the road. But this was Arthur, sweet, beautiful, brilliant Arthur, the kindest soul to ever be stuck into a body. He could have wasted hours of time and breath and brilliance arguing and protesting, but honestly, there was no point.

This wasn't the beginning of their life together, but it certainly felt like it. 


	2. Welcome Home

The search took two weeks. They had been lucky, extremely so, and had actually found a little house in which to live. Skip was surprised at the low price, and was a bit suspicious. Arthur, however, had known the old lady who'd lived there before being moved into a home, and she'd given them the great deal. The lady's son wasn't exactly thrilled, but he had no say, so it didn't matter.

With Mum's blessing and Douglas's help, the pair moved in almost immediately. Douglas looked around as they brought in the first few boxes, studying it.

"It's not bad," he said, but he said it in that way that really meant, _Well done, brilliant, fantastic_. Arthur grinned hugely and was inclined to agree completely.

"It is perfect, isn't it?"

There was a little garden in the front that the lady had promised was low-maintenance, a sunny little kitchen with big windows, an extra little room that wild be perfect as a study (or maybe a studio, since it got a lot of light), and all sorts of brilliant little details. It had been a perfect stroke of luck, and Arthur was grateful.

Martin came up behind Arthur, a smallish box in one hand. He lightly squeezed Arthur's shoulder, probably the only form of affection he could easily express in front of Douglas. Arthur grinned and leaned into the touch anyway.

Douglas helped move and set up and arrange the big furniture to their liking, and he was rewarded with a hearty sandwich prepared by Martin and served by Arthur. Finally, though, Douglas left. Arthur celebrated properly with a big, sweet kiss against Martin's upturned lips.

"Didn't I say we'd find something perfect?" Arthur crowed, winding his arms around Martin's waist. The smaller man leaned into his steward, affection radiating out like heat.

"Yes, you did," Martin conceded. Arthur could feel the smile against his collarbone. "And you were right."

* * *

It wasn't long before it looked like a proper home. The two bookshelves in the extra room were slowly filling with flight manuals, model planes, animal figurines, souvenirs, and actual books. Arthur, who was unsurprisingly artistic (but surprisingly talented) had claimed a corner of that room with his supplies and projects and everything. Airfix models were scattered about like prizes, postcards and photos papered the fridge, pictures hung on the walls, the quilt Martin's mother had made years ago graced the back of the sofa, and a pair of stegosaurus salt and pepper shakers rested atop the dining table.

In less than six months, they'd filled the house with their respective and collective spirits. Every morning smelled of coffee and soft good-mornings and buttered toast. Every night sounded with the gentle rustle of sheets, smiles in golden lamplight, and love-yous.

The garden was blooming proper and the walk from the pavement to the front door was a cacaphony of heady floral scents, which both men appreciated. The gentle humming of bees through the open windows on lazy days off was a comforting soundtrack to their spring.

The neighbours liked them and took care of silly little things while they were gone. They were referred to as "those nice boys," and Arthur soon found himself with an excess of friends. Martin liked them all well enough, and everyone loved him, but he was Martin after all. He needed time.

Carolyn and Douglas liked to spring Surprise MJN Dinners on the couple, often bringing nice ingredients that the pair wouldn't have sprung for themselves. Carolyn still fed Arthur, more or less, and now his boyfriend. His boyfriend who was slowly proving himself to be a surprisingly able cook. As with most things, it only took time and practice for him to do it well.

They still lived frugally, of course. Well, they called it frugally. Carolyn and Duglas both called it _cheap_. The food they bought was extremely basic, but certainly more nourishing than toast and pasta alone. They both worked an extra job besides MJN, with Martin maintaining Icarus Removals and Arthur picking up a job as a delivery boy for a florist. Eventually, though, he managed to find a job illustrating children's books, and did pretty well.

Everyone's still a bit confused as to how it happened.

Martin and Arthur went to bed every night either missing home or loving it. It was their perfect corner of the earth, and the second best thing in each of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things got so fluffy there. I regret nothing. I just want them to be happy, okay?


End file.
